They Call Me Spineless
by ImmaBeatYouWithaCrowbar
Summary: "...but I always had Ponyboy's back. Always." Four of Ponyboy's life-changing moments through Johnny's eyes.
1. A Kid as Bright and Golden

**A/N: I know that the beginning of the story isn't the most interesting one in the world, but I wanted to begin the story a bit mundanely, like S.E. Hinton did **_**The Outsiders.**_** It doesn't have the best grammar or story-writing, either, because I wanted it to be a bit more realistic. It said in the book that even though Johnny was really skilled at understanding things, he wasn't very book-smart. Seeing as it's in his point-of-view, I figured I'd let that show. Plus, not all of us speak like Stephen King or Lewis Carroll. We can only be so skilled, haha. Anyway, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

The gang was hanging out at the Curtis house. Well, the gang minus one, I should say. Ponyboy was out somewhere, watching some movie, I think Soda said. I wondered how he could lone something like that without so much as a second thought. Things weren't very safe for us greasers in neutral territory. I guess he was pretty brave for being thirteen. Fourteen, I corrected myself. Turned last month, and got pretty touchy when you called him thirteen.

Or maybe he didn't do it out of courage. Maybe he just wasn't thinking. Darry always ragged on him about how he wasn't ever thinking.

Other than Two-Bit giving Dally a noogie (which didn't go without punishment), not much had happened today. I mean, Soda cheated Steve out of a buck over poker, Darry commented on something interesting in the newspaper, and Dally beat the daylights out of Two-Bit, but that pretty much happens every day. Nothing new. That was probably why everyone was so quick to jump up when Darry said, "Pony's movie should be ending soon. Maybe we should go pick him up and walk him home."

So, we left the house, Darry in the front and Two-Bit bringing up the rear. Usually, Two-Bit would be in the front, trying to challenge Darry for his position. Dally liked to hang in the back, though, and I always walked behind Dally, which usually landed me in the back. I knew Two-Bit wanted me in between him and Dal, because he knew I was the only person on earth Dally wouldn't knock over to get at him.

The theater was quite a bit away, but none of us really minded. We all liked walking. On slow days like these, we always took a walk. Sometimes we even took one on the more exciting days. I wondered why we liked it so much.

I used to walk alone all the time. Not anymore, though, not since what happened in the lot. Ponyboy walked around by his lonesome a lot, too. I got a sudden pang of worry, the kind I always did when Pony might get hurt. I might have been a chicken little, but I always felt like it was my obligation to look after Ponyboy. I thought we all did, even Steve to an extent. Maybe that was because he was the youngest.

Slowly, the grimy slums of the east began to clear up. It wasn't too nice, not as nice as the west, but it was a heck of a lot better than the east. Neutral territory was where all the middle-class people lived, a rare place to see greasers and Socs unless they were hitting up the town or something. I supposed that was why we got so many funny looks. After realizing how nicely those people were dressed, though, I knew better.

"Man," Steve muttered, "this is Soc-city today. I bet the only reason we haven't been jumped yet is 'cause we're walking in a pack."

That got everyone a little worried, I bet, mainly because it was true. We'd been eyed by a bunch of madras-wearing jerks in mustangs so far. I'd bet that the biggest reason why they kept on going was because of Darry and his Superman self, not because we were in a pack. If that was true, how would a small, greased-up, barely-teenager look in their ugly eyes?

_Like lunch,_ I thought bitterly.

That was when we heard the screaming. Ponyboy's screaming. _"SODA, DARRY, HELP! SODA! HEL-"_

We all froze in place as soon as it started. When his voice cut off suddenly, we all feared the worst. Next thing I knew, we were all running in high-gear. Feet slapping against the ground, arms flapping by our sides, long greasy hair flying behind us…we must have looked a wreck, but we didn't care. All that mattered was getting to Ponyboy. Even Steve, who could barely stand the kid, was determined to help him.

Ponyboy had started screaming again. Or, at least he was trying to. It sounded like the Socs were trying to keep him quiet, which they probably were. He was still calling names, mainly Darry and Soda, but Two-Bit got mixed in a couple times. He even screamed for Dally and Steve, and he didn't like either much. I wasn't surprised not to hear my name. I just wasn't someone to go to for help.

_"SODA! TWO-BIT!"_

All I could think of was that day when those Socs had jumped me in the lot. I knew I wasn't going to ever be able to put that behind me. That event had left a scar from my temple to my cheekbone and a scar on my spirit. They were the same. Neither would ever go away. I couldn't get that day out of my mind…

_ "JOHNNY!"_

And I knew that I could never let that happen to a kid as bright and golden as Ponyboy. People might like to call me spineless, but I always had Ponyboy's back. Always.

As we turned the corner, we saw the Socs that had him pinned to the ground. They looked at us with shock, as if surprised that hoods like us would bother coming to protect some scrawny little kid. Ponyboy had his eyes squeezed shut, trying to fight and get away from the Socs. He looked terrified, and he was bleeding like a stuck pig. Then, I was looking at the Socs, and suddenly I felt a way that I hadn't felt in a long time: like I could rip their heads off.

Me, Two-Bit, Steve, and Dally rushed them. Soda followed us for a moment, then turned back to help Darry check up on Pony. Even though I knew I was too scrawny and small to do it, all I wanted to do was hurt those Socs for hurting Pony. You didn't do that to a kid. God, you just didn't.

They disappeared in that fancy mustang of theirs. "Yeah!" Two-Bit yelled after them, already scooping up rocks. "Not so tough when you're the ones outnumbered, huh!" Steve was right with Two-Bit with the teasing, and I was pretty sure Dally beat his record for the quality and quantity of Nasty Things Said to Socs. I was dead quiet, though. Not because I was scared.

One of my rocks went soaring right through the back window of that pretty little mustang. It disappeared around the corner, screeching all the way.

"Woo, Johnny!" Two-Bit cried, breaking out into a grin. "Way to aim!" He scooped me into the air and spun me in circles till I was almost too dizzy to keep my balance when he set me back down. Dally's congratulatory clap on the back and Steve nudging me in the side didn't help matters.

When we finally got back to the others, Pony asked us if we caught them. Two-Bit was glad for the excuse for more name calling. Ponyboy was pale and pretty shaky, but we all knew he'd be fine after he calmed down a bit. He was already changing the subject as if it were nothing, asking about Dally being out of jail. (Dally lied horribly, saying he got out on good behavior. I didn't know how exactly he got out so early, but Dallas Winston never had good behavior. Ever.)

Things took a natural course of events from there. Darry ragged on Pony for not thinking, Soda stood up for Pony, Darry backed off after making a point that he wasn't backing off because Soda told him to, while Pony just watched quietly. That always seemed to be the way their fights went. Next thing I knew, Pony was volunteering me for movie night.

Yep. Pony would be just fine. I smiled at the kid. He looked at me and looked surprised that I was actually smiling. (I admit, I don't do it as much as I should.) He seemed to get my point though, that I was glad he was alright and didn't end up like me.

All that blood was coming from a cut he had in almost the exact same place as I did, maybe a bit lower.

It didn't look like it would leave a scar.

Thank god.


	2. Give the Kid a Bath

**A/N: Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews! For you, here is event number two. I'm sure you can all guess what it is. I'm not exactly a suspenseful writer, but I generally like things to go slower than I had them in the last chapter. I tried to show that in this one. So, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

When I was sleeping in the lot, I heard someone call my name. It was Ponyboy, sounding scared, almost frenzied. I could have sworn I was just dreaming, but you never really hear things in dreams, you just think you do. That was why, when the footsteps on the gravel crunched in my ears and Ponyboy called out for me again, I immediately jumped to my feet. Pony had been standing so close I nearly knocked him down in the process.

He was unfazed. "Come on, Johnny, we're running away."

He didn't ask me if we should, he didn't ask me if it was the right thing to do, he didn't even ask me if I wanted to. He just started running. I didn't ask why. I just started following. That was something I always liked about Pony. We didn't talk much, but we always understood each other. I knew he was just speaking rashly and didn't mean it, and that we'd probably turn right back around in a few blocks. Deep down, I think Ponyboy knew that, too.

Sure enough, only a few blocks away from the lot, Pony suddenly sat down. He'd been crying for the past few minutes, but now he let it all loose. "Easy, Ponyboy. We'll be okay," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

It took several moments of silence and my last cigarette, but the kid finally calmed down. His voice was still kind of shaky when he told me about Darry yelling and hitting him, and how he just couldn't take it and ran off. I softened at that, because I didn't like the idea that anyone was hitting Ponyboy, but I knew Darry well enough to know that it wouldn't happen again. Darry was just under a lot of stress, was all.

I just wanted to get Ponyboy home and this whole situation sorted out. As Abe Lincoln said, a house divided couldn't stand (or something like that). We needed the Curtis family to stay strong. They were the glue of the gang, the whole reason why we were brought together. I was not a smart kid, so I couldn't think of anything better than to remind him of what he had.

"I think I like it better when the old man's hitting me," I told him. "At least then I know he knows who I am. I walk in that house, and nobody says anything. I walk out, and nobody says anything. I stay away all night, and nobody notices. At least you got Soda. I ain't got nobody."

Ponyboy seemed to be startled by this. His eyes got big, and he wiped away the rest of his tears. Now, the tables seemed to be turned. He wanted to remind _me_ of what _I_ had, even though I already knew it. "Shoot, you got the whole gang. Dally didn't slug you tonight 'cause you're the pet. I mean, golly, Johnny, you got the whole gang."

This conversation went on for about another minute. Ponyboy was all cooled off, and finally he said, "Let's walk to the park and back. Then maybe I'll be cooled off enough to go home."

"Okay," I replied, shooting down the smile that wanted to come up. "Okay." I would have said I told you so, but that wasn't just the kind of thing I said, plus I never really told him.

By the time we got to the park, I was frozen half to death. I buttoned up my jacket and flipped up my collar, then crossed my arms and hugged myself tightly. "Ain't you about to freeze to death, Pony?" I asked, seeing as what he was wearing provided no protection whatsoever. I would've offered him my jacket, but on nights as cold as these, no one was that considerate. Not even me.

"You ain't a'woofing," he chattered at me, rubbing his bar arms and trying to smoke at the same time. I really wanted to get that kid home, but I knew I had to wait for him to regain himself completely. I could wait. I was a patient boy, and most people told me that I'd never get half the things I was waiting for, but I was still waiting for them.

Pony looked like he wanted to say something, but a car horn suddenly cut him off. We jumped in shock and whirled to face the source of it, immediately trying to look tough. It was two-thirty in the morning, for Pete's sake. That was when all the nutcases were out roaming.

But it wasn't the kind of nutcase we were thinking of.

No, it was a nutcase of a much different kind.

We were being circled by a blue mustang.

"Shit," I whispered, just as Ponyboy said in a hushed voice, though it was clear he wanted to yell, "What do they want? This is our territory. What are Socs doing this far east?"

I shook my head, doing my best not to tremble. No matter how terrified they were, greasers never showed fear. They stayed tough to the end. "I don't know," I replied, forcing my eyes into a glare, "but I bet they're looking for us." I swallowed thickly. "We picked up their girls."

"Oh, glory, this is all I need to top off a perfect night," Ponyboy groaned. He put out the cigarette, then looked around for escape routes. "Want to run for it?"

My eyes, however, never left the Socs. "It's too late now. Here they come." Five of them, in all their madras-wearing, overdressed, drunken glory, were quickly approaching us. _Golly gee,_ I thought as Ponyboy and I tensed up, standing side by side and doing our darn best to hide our fear, _we'll be lucky to survive the night. Two little scrawny greasers are no match for five big, mean-looking Socs…especially when the greasers picked up the Socs girls._

Soon, they had us and the fountain surrounded. I glanced around wildly, searching for any way out, though I knew there was none. My eyes settled on Bob, that Cherry girl's boy. A glint caught my eye, and I looked down to see the moonlight reflecting off his rings…the rings that left my scars on me…

Oh, lord, lord, lord…

"Hey, whadduya know?" Bob slurred, reeking horribly of English Leather. "Here's the little greasers that picked up our girls. Hey, greasers."

I narrowed my eyes at them, fighting down the panic. "You're out of your territory," I warned, my voice low and dangerous. God, I was good enough of an actor to make it to the big screens. "You'd better watch it."

A couple of them cussed at us. They tightened their circle around us, but Ponyboy and I stood our ground. I betted Dally would have been proud had he seen us. Bob kind of grinned at me, and I knew that he knew where that scar on my face came from. "Nope, pal," he said, just a tad too friendly, "you're the ones who'd better watch it. Next time you want a broad, pick up your own kind - _dirt."_

Pony was beginning to shake, but I knew it wasn't in fear. The kid was getting angry. When he got angry, he got smart. _Don't, Pony, being smart only makes it worse for you,_ I begged him silently, hoping he'd hear.

"You know what a greaser is?" Bob asked, his voice suddenly low and lethal. "White trash with long hair."

Genuinely taken aback by this, I couldn't stop the gasp. Pony's eyes went wide, and I knew he was just as stricken as I was. Cussed out, sworn at, beat up…nothing really compared to being called scum by a guy who meant it. Suddenly, my glare wasn't so feigned…and I remembered Ponyboy's angry habits.

Before I could stop him, Ponyboy actually took a step forward and snapped, "You know what a Soc is?"

_Oh, god, Pony, don't…it isn't a pleasant thing to be called, but don't make it worse for you. These guys are just drunk and angry enough to kill you…you can't die. We can't die tonight, not here._ But, for the first time, Pony didn't seem to hear me.

"White trash with mustangs and madras." And then he spit at them.

The Socs seemed a little surprised at Ponyboy's flare, but they weren't fazed. Bob shook his head at us, smiling a drunk and dangerous smile. "You could use a bath, greaser. And a good working over," he said slowly. He tried to sound pleasant, like a friend offering a casual suggestion, but the malice in his voice was wavering just below the surface. I was twitching, desperate to get out of there. I wished they hadn't boxed us in.

Bob grinned like a hungry lion. "And we've got all night to do it." His eyes flicked over to one of his drinking buddies. "Give the kid a bath, David."

Like any person with half a mind would have done, Ponyboy tried to get away. The Soc had his arm in a second, though, twisting it behind his back. I felt my eyes widen as the Soc grabbed him by the back of the head and shoved his head into the fountain.

"Get off him!" I yelled without thinking, immediately running at the Soc. In a second, another one yanked me away, his arms tight around my body and pinning my arms to my sides. I was hauled into the air and thrown a few yards away. I landed hard on my chest. I tried to push myself to my hands and knees, gasping for air.

A Soc slammed me back down to the ground, his shoe digging into my back.

"You're going to kill him!" I choked out as loudly as I could. "You're…you're going too far…you'll kill him!" I was kicked in the shoulder, forcing me over and onto my back. I cried out in pain, then shouted, "Ponyboy! For God's sake, get off him!" A foot came down hard on my chest, and all the wind was knocked from my lungs.

For a moment, nothing happened. One of them, the Marcia girl's boyfriend, was standing away like a prop in the background. He looked horrified. Bob was sneering down at me, his foot still on my chest, a blade bright with the moonlight clutched tightly in his hand. I knew he recognized me the same as I recognized him, and he knew that he was the one who left those scars on me. He was proud of it. Then there was Ponyboy…he'd stopped struggling. His body was relaxed against the fountain…

"Ponyboy!" I gasped. There was a vicious burning in my side, like I'd been cut. Suddenly, I realized I _had_ been. By my own switchblade. It must've nicked me when I'd been thrown.

I thought of that day, back on the lot…my scars…

No one was going to hurt me like that again.

No one was going to hurt Ponyboy at all.

Without thinking about it, I used all my strength to push me up. Bob, his foot still on my chest, was thrown off-balance. Next thing I knew, I was yelling, my switchblade clutched tightly in my hand. Bob hit the ground…I fell on top of him…

And then my blade was buried to the hilt in his chest.

I swear to you, Father Time himself stopped the clock to stare in shock at what I'd done. Bob seemed so surprised, so bewildered, as if there was no way that poor puppy dog had hurt him. No way that blood beginning to pool around him was his. No way he was dying…

And then he was dead. I watched the light leave his eyes. I swear to you, I would never forget that moment. Strangely, I wondered if Dally felt like this the first time he'd ever killed a man…

I heard yelling and screaming and the sound of the Socs running as fast as they could, but it all sounded to be a million miles away. I had killed someone. The car sputtered like a gunshot before speeding off, tires screeching. I had killed someone. Ponyboy was now collapsed on the pavement, unconscious but coughing, meaning he was alive…_but I had killed someone._

Horrified, I yanked the knife out of Bob's chest, throwing myself backwards. I curled in on myself, my knees up to my chest and one elbow on my eyes. All I could do was stare at what I'd done…the life I had taken away.

Suddenly, I noticed Ponyboy was awake. He was staring at me, eyes desperate for some kind of answer.

"I killed him," I whispered. I was surprised to hear my voice so even. "I killed that boy."

The moonlight turned the blood into a funny silvery color. It almost looked like Bob was curled up in front of the moon…the man in the moon…

"Johnny, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Go ahead. I won't look at you."

Everything was silent for a moment. Eventually, Ponyboy rasped, "You really killed him, huh, Johnny."

"Yeah," I murmured, and then suddenly the details were spilling out of me. Pony being drowned…the knife in Bob's hand looking so much deadlier than any of his rings…how all the Socs ran. I couldn't stop myself until I squeaked, "They all ran…" I couldn't find anything else to say then. I guess that was all there was to say.

Ponyboy listened to me, but I knew he was getting scared. I would've helped him, but I couldn't. _I_ was scared. Hell, _I'd killed someone!_

Finally, Ponyboy jumped up screaming about murder and the electric chair and being scared. I wanted to be right there with him, screaming and crying, but I couldn't. Ponyboy was the kid, not me (I was a kid, too, but two and a half years was an eternity in teen-years), and it was my fault we were in this mess. So, I couldn't do anything but try and calm the kid down. After a moment, he pulled away from me, whispering shakily, "Okay. I'm okay now."

I looked around, trying to think of a way to get us out of this. I began to think out loud. "We gotta get outta here. Get somewhere. Run away. The police'll be here soon." My hands were shaking, but I was surprised at how well I was holding myself together. I guess all that time of bottling stuff up could really come in handy. "We'll need money," I continued, my mind now switching to a supply list. "And maybe a gun. And a plan." _Definitely a plan._

We needed a way to get away from the law.

And who was the expert at getting away from the law?

"Dally," I said, certain that he was the right person to go to. "Dally will get us outta here."

I sighed sadly, kicking at the ground. I guess we weren't going to turn back after a few blocks after all…


	3. Reflection of the Fire

**A/N: You guys are amazing! Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews. Now, I tried to only do events where Ponyboy wasn't quite sure what was going on with the others, such as him being jumped or being drowned, so that it wouldn't sound like I was copying and pasting the book. However…well, we all know that this scene just had to be done. It's the first rule of every "Moments From the Book Through Johnny's Eyes" guideline manual. Ladies and gents, the church fire. Remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

"We're going back and turning ourselves in."

Dally choked on his fudge sundae, and I felt myself getting worried. I hoped Dally didn't get angry with me. I made him go through all this for nothing, and Dally hated people who were soft enough to turn themselves into the police. I would die if Dally hated me, I just knew I would…but I couldn't back down on this. It was something that had to be done.

Dally was already swearing. He slammed his hand down on the table and turned to me, his eyes shocked but flaring. I felt my hands beginning to shake. I was good at hiding my fear, but for some reason my hands always shook. "I said," I repeated steadily, finding the courage to gaze Dal in the eye, "that's we're going back and turning ourselves in.

"I got a good chance of getting let off easy," I added quickly, desperate for Dally to understand, to not be angry with me. "I ain't got no record with the fuzz and it was self-defense. Ponyboy and Cherry can testify to that." Then, I sat back in my chair, continuing quite sincerely, "And I don't aim to stay in that church all my life." Lord, I already hated baloney with all my heart and soul. I didn't need to start hating _Gone With the Wind,_ poker, and Robert Frost's poems while I was at it.

I swallowed thickly, still feeling my hands shake. I wasn't only scared of Dallas getting angry with me, but I hated the idea of going to a police station. I was dead scared of cops, ever since a couple tried to beat the daylights out of me and I had to run for all I was worth.

"We won't tell that you helped us, Dally, and we'll give you back the gun and what's left of the money and say we hitchhiked back so you won't get into trouble. Okay?"

Dally was chewing on his ID card, looking pretty uncertain. "You sure you want to go back? Us greasers get it worse than anyone else…"

"I'm sure," I replied, getting up. Ponyboy and Dally followed, and soon we were heading towards the car Dally had. It was Buck Merrill's T-Bird. Buck probably lent it to him because Dally had won in so much money at the last couple rodeos he had been in. That, or Dally had bullied him into it. Dally was a good bully, and Buck was pretty easily bullied (I mean, even Ponyboy had been able to do it).

"It ain't fair for Ponyboy to have to stay up in that church with Darry and Soda worrying about him all the time. I don't guess…I don't guess my parents are worried about me or anything?" I tried to hide my eagerness. I wanted to be told that they were worried about me. I wanted to know that they cared. I mean, for Pete's sake, they were my _parents._ I hated them on some days, but at the root of it all I still loved them.

Dally always told me I was too sensitive. I was good at acting tough, but I'd yet to actually _get_ tough. Maybe he was right.

Dally seemed to know what I was getting at and tried to change the subject. "The boys are worried," he replied in a tone of voice that said that that was the end of it. "Two-Bit was going to go to Texas to hunt for you."

Lord, good old Two-Bit. You could count on that guy for anything. But that wasn't the answer I wanted. "My parents," I repeated stubbornly, desperate to know, "did they ask about me?"

"No, they didn't."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. My eyes went wide. That wasn't the answer I wanted either…

Dally seemed to notice how hurt and shocked I was. "Blast it, Johny," he snapped, "what do they matter? Shoot, my old man don't give a hand whether I'm in jail or dead in a car wreck or drunk in the gutter. That don't bother me none."

_But I'm not you, Dally. I look up to you, but I'm not you._

I remained silent, and Dally finally started the car. He was cussing again. He had changed gears again. "Blast it, Johnny," he repeated, "why didn't you think of turning yourself in five days ago? It would have saved a lot of trouble."

I felt a pang of worry. I'd just lost my parents in a way that hurt so much more than them dying (though I guessed I had never really had them). I couldn't lose Dally, too.

"I was scared," I said. "I still am." My hands were still shaking. I looked at Ponyboy, playing with my hair. I hated it short. "I guess we ruined our hair for nothing, Ponyboy." He didn't look like he was paying attention, but I didn't want to look away from Ponyboy. If I did, I'd have to look at Dally, and I didn't want to have to see that scowl on Dally's face.

Finally, I stared down at my feet, hanging my head. Dally was mad at me. God, I was such an idiot. I was just as scared now as I was when I'd first killed Bob. Why couldn't I have saved everyone the work and just turned myself in. Ponyboy never would have had to run away with me. He could have gone back home to the love and warmth of his home, to the family that cared about him, to his warm and welcoming bed. He had all that stuff to go back to. And now, because of my stupidity, Dally was angry. I was such an idiot.

"Johnny," Dally said, cutting into my though. I was surprised to hear him use such a pleading tone. He rarely ever used that voice, and I'd only ever heard him use it with me. "Johnny, I ain't mad at you." I looked up, surprised and relieved. "I just don't want you to get hurt. You don't know what a few months in jail can do to you. Oh, blast it, Johnny…"

He was getting frustrated, feverishly pushing his almost-white hair from his face. I found it funny how different we were, both in looks and personality. Dally, with his white-blonde hair, eyes so light of a blue they looked like little chips of ice, so pale and sharp-looking, so tough and hateful. Me, with my black hair and black eyes, my dark skin, my idiotic sensitivity. It was funny, that he was my hero and I was the only one he was remotely nice to.

Dally was talking again. "You get hardened in jail. I don't want that to happen to you. Like it happened to me…"

I was shocked. Dally never spoke like that. I swallowed thickly, trying to keep my voice steady. I was good at that, if nothing else. "Would you rather have me living in hide-outs for the rest of my life, always on the run?"

If he said yes, I'd do it. I swear I would. Dally was smarter than me, knew the way of the world so much better. I wouldn't so much as breathe another word of turning myself in. I had to do what Dally wanted me to do, it always felt like I didn't have a choice-

_The church was on fire!_

All thoughts of police and murder and Dally being angry slipped from my mind the second I saw the church. It was sky-high with flames.

"Oh, glory!" Dally gasped. He braked suddenly, throwing me and Ponyboy (we weren't buckled up) into the seats in front of us.

Ponyboy shook it off quickly and said, "Let's go see what the deal is." He swung open his door and jumped out. I quickly followed suit. We were in the back seat, so there really was no way for Dally to grab us and stop us before we were gone. Even if he had been quick enough, I bet he'd only have been able to grab me while Ponyboy ran up there all by his lonesome.

Boy howdy, did Dally look bothered. "What for? Get back in here before I beat your head in!"

I didn't like disobeying Dally. I mean, his word was law to me. But, like Pony, I just had to know what was going on. Besides, even though he was cussing us out, he wasn't angry enough to park the car and chase after us.

When Pony asked, some fat man explained to us with a friendly smile that the school picnic they'd been having had been forced to a halt because of a sudden fire. He was pretty calm, so that meant everything was okay. I sighed in relief, though Ponyboy looked bothered. "I bet we started it," he whispered to me, looking guilty. "We must have dropped a lighted cigarette or something."

I would have told him that, aw, heck, it was just some abandoned church no one cared about anyway, and no one got hurt, but I was interrupted. Some lady, probably another teacher, came running up, yelling about how some kids were missing. The guy, Jerry, didn't seem all that concerned, but the lady told him that they'd been missing for a while. They'd been climbing the hill…

And what was at the top of the hill?

That damn blazing church!

Suddenly, so faintly it seemed almost like nothing at all, those trapped children's screams reached us. They became so very real in a matter of seconds.

The woman was pale as a ghost now, and Ponyboy and I only stood there with wide, disbelieving eyes. We were both shaking now, because we knew that this was our fault. Those kids were going to die, and it was our fault…

Jerry cut through my thoughts. "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

But it was Ponyboy who sprinted towards the church for all he was worth. Jerry caught him by the arm, yelling, "I'll get them! You kids stay out!"

But Ponyboy's eyes were wild with guilt…he had to get those kids out, he just had to. It was our fault…

Ponyboy pulled free from the man and continued towards the church. Before I knew it, I was chasing after him. The kid was a track star, but I had learned a thing or two on the rare occasions that I had to run for my life. I was almost caught up to him when suddenly a strong hand caught me by the back of my jean jacket, yanking me to a halt. For a second, I thought it was Jerry, and I tried to shake free. But this hand held me tight, and next thing I knew I was pulled backwards. A very familiar voice hissed at me, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I looked at Dally with wide eyes. This time, he was angry at me, for being such a fool and running towards the flaming church. But Ponyboy…I'd only been following Ponyboy…

Ponyboy grabbed a large rock and heaved it through the front window, shattering it and allowing as safe of a passage as you could get to a place that was on fire. He went to throw the rock to the side but got overbalanced and fell to one knee. He was going to be inside that church in a matter of seconds.

"But what about those kids?" I cried, looking at Dally, begging him to let me go. But I didn't struggle. I couldn't fight Dally, not Dally.

"Screw them!" he yelled back at me.

I swallowed thickly, watching Ponyboy disappear through the window of the church. I wanted to follow, but I couldn't. I couldn't fight Dally. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't just angry. I was surprised to see that he was scared, too, scared for me. He didn't want me to get hurt. I remembered what he was saying back in the T-Bird…I don't want that to happen to you. Like it happened to me…

Suddenly, I knew why Dally treated me the way he did. It wasn't because I was the pet. It was because I reminded him of himself, before he lost his heart.

But Ponyboy…for god's sake, _Ponyboy…_

Ponyboy reminded _me_ of _myself,_ before I lost my gold.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Dal," I said with all the sincerity in the world, then threw an arm back and elbowed him in the gut. He wasn't really hurt, but he was so startled that I slipped right out of his hand. I was at the church window in a second, not hesitating to follow Ponyboy through.

Dally screamed after me, _"Goddammit, Johnny!"_

I had to ignore Dally, or I wouldn't be able to do this. I was so relieved to see that I was still only right behind the kid that I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Hey, Ponyboy."

I remembered thinking something when the gang was trying to save Ponyboy from a beating. _People might like to call me spineless, but I always had Ponyboy's back. Always._

And the funny thing was, now, which was one of the likeliest situations to chicken out on, I wasn't the slightest lick afraid. I didn't think Pony was, either.

Ponyboy looked at me in surprise. He hadn't expected me to follow him into the church. He coughed for a second, then choked out, "Is that guy coming?"

For a moment, I thought he was talking about Dally. Then, I remembered: Jerry. I glanced over my shoulder real quick to see him standing there. "The window stopped him," I replied quite easily.

"Too scared?" Ponyboy asked, not surprised.

"Naw." Now, I rarely smiled, let alone grinned. Call me crazy, but I just had to grin at that moment. "Too fat." Then, I looked around. The smoke was making it hard to see and hard to breathe. Even though we'd been able to hear the kids from outside, with the fire roaring right in my ears, I couldn't hear anything. "Where's the kids?" I yelled over the fire.

"In the back, I guess," he hollered back. As quickly as we could, we stumbled our way through the wreckage, both of us coughing so hard we were close to staggering. Ponyboy got to the door to the back room and propped his shoulder against it, trying to open it. He couldn't, so I reached around him and began to shove it with both hands. Our combined strength forced the door open just enough for the two of us to squeeze our ways through. For the first time, I was thanking God for being so scrawny.

The kids were screaming. Now, I was already lightheaded and had a throbbing headache, so I screamed back, "Shut up!" They were startled quiet and looked so scared, and I felt kind of bad. "We're going to get you out!" I elaborated, hoping to make them just a bit less scared. I hated seeing kids so little and innocent so terrified…

I looked over my shoulder. The door we'd come through as already in flames. _Damn,_ I thought, looking around for another escape routes. I saw a window. Immediately, I ran to it and opened it, picking up the nearest kid and dropping him out. I didn't want to hurt him, but we didn't have the time to be gentle. The most I could do was make sure he didn't land on his head or something.

I had to lean out the window for a moment to drop the kid. I saw a crowd racing towards us for all they were worth. Dally was at the lead.

When Ponyboy dropped a kid, I heard Dally yell at us that the kid's didn't matter, hurry up and get out because the roof was about to cave in.

Lord. Now I was scared. I hoped Dally would be proud of me, to keep working like this with that crazy grin even though I was scared. After a second, I realized that he probably hated me now. For Pete's sake, you didn't get to hit Dally and get away with it. Even if you were the pet.

The front of the church crumbled the second we got the last kid out.

I wasn't sure how I knew it, but I did. There was only enough time for one of us to get out.

I glanced at Ponyboy, who was completely oblivious that we had seconds left. The fire reflected off of him, making him look so golden…

My hands were trembling with sudden terror, but they still shoved Ponyboy towards the window. "Get out!" I yelled over the fire. The last thing I remember from the burning church was seeing Ponyboy jump out the window, barely in time to avoid the crashing timber.


	4. My Last Wish

**A/N: Haha, I hate to tell you this, I Love Pepsi 2, but I think your guess was right. Now, this is another thing Ponyboy was pretty with it about, but COME ON. This was Johnny's last scene in the book, and the only other scene he was in actively after the church fire. I'm sure you've all guessed what scene that is by now…here is my depiction of Johnny's death. Hope you enjoy…well, I can't really say that, but it would just sound horrible saying "hope it breaks your heart," haha. Also, if you want a bit more insight on the last part of this chapter, only through Dally's P.O.V., feel free to check out my two-shot **_**In the Last Game**_**, because I related the two pretty closely. And, if you aren't bored with my seriously-too-long author's note so far, I have to ask you for a vote: should I give a short fifth chapter through Pony's P.O.V. to kind of tie things up? Anyway, remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

I was so lonely there in my bed. The only other living things I'd seen were doctors and nurses, and those guys are a dime a dozen in a hospital.

Lord, I just wanted to see the boys. I wanted to see Dally beat the daylights out of Two-Bit for giving him a noogie because no one messed with Dallas Winston and got away with it. I wanted to see Soda's pearly grin as he jipped Steve out of a dollar during poker, and I wanted to see Steve's ever-present scowl deepen as Soda jipped him out of that dollar. I wanted to see Two-Bit's lopsided goofball grin as he cracked another one of those jokes only he (and maybe that Marcia girl, come to think of it) would understand but would make everybody laugh. I wanted to see Darry flipping through his newspaper, occasionally pointing something of interest out to us. And then we'd go out, because Pony was out by his lonesome again and we wanted to find him…

I knew I was dying.

I just wanted to see it all one last time.

That was why, when I heard a voice that belonged to none other than Two-Bit in the hall, my eyes widened. "What do you mean, we can't see him?" He sounded outraged. His voice was set on a crescendo. Boy howdy, Two-Bit never cared if he was making a scene. In fact, he loved doing it. "I haven't seen that kid in well over a week because he and this kid right here lost their heads and ran away! Now, I care about them both pretty good, but obviously I've seen this kid right here, so I'm aiming to see that kid right there!"

Ponyboy was with him? Of course Ponyboy wouldn't have been saying anything. He never did, really. He was the only other one of the boys other than me who doesn't, and seeing as I could only hear Two-Bit, that meant that it was only Two-Bit and Pony out there.

"I'm sorry, boys," a nurse said, "but only family's allowed in."

"Fine. I'm his old man and Pony's his cousin twice removed." Both obviously lies, but the nurse wouldn't have believed any "oh I'm family" excuse from them. "Now, come on, lady, let us in!"

"I can't let you do that."

"Oh, please, please, please!" Two-Bit had changed gears in the blink of an eye, as he always did. I knew he was on his knees overdramatically, begging, and I had to smile. Oh, good old Two-Bit. "Johnny's my heart and soul and I won't live another day if I can't see him! Oh, please, ma'am, I can't bear it anymore, I _must_ see him!"

"…no."

There was the sound of Two-Bit getting back to his feet. Suddenly, his voice lowered, so low I couldn't hear him anymore. But I could hear just how serious he was. I felt a pang of guilt. I'd already made Two-Bit serious once in my life, back when I'd been jumped, and it bothered me knowing I'd done it again. Making Two-Bit serious was like saying you were making someone else upset.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach when the nurse replied stubbornly, "No."

"Let them go in," a new voice intruded into the conversation. It was the doctor, the one that I really liked because of how nice he was. He understood things well. "He's been asking for them. It can't hurt now."

My eyes were closed because it took too much energy to keep them open for so long, but I was happy to hear the door open. Two-Bit and Pony made their way pretty quietly to me. The nurse must have followed them in, because I heard the shades opening.

"Hey, Johnnykid," Two-Bit said, and I opened my eyes. I could see how worried Two-Bit was. I knew he would have lunged at me or picked me up and twirled me around or given me a noogie, but he knew I was hurt and didn't want to hurt me worse. So, he'd have to settle with a casual greeting.

I tried to grin at them. "Hey, y'all."

The nurse smiled at me. Golly, she was pretty. "So he can talk after all."

I knew I'd said how much I wanted to see them, but it was a struggle to pay attention and I lost a lot of the conversation. I tried my best to listen so that I could reply, but it was just so hard. Eventually, Two-Bit had run off to the drugstore to get another copy of _Gone With the Wind._ Ponyboy took his chair a bit tentatively, and we were quiet for a long time. He said a couple things, and I was glad to catch that him and Darry were on good terms now. _About time,_ I thought tiredly.

I tried to smile, but that soaked the strength right out of me. The wave of pain that coursed through me at that moment didn't help matters. Ponyboy got worried real quick, and I tried to nod at him. "Yeah, it just hurts sometimes. It usually don't…I can't feel anything below the middle of my back…I'm pretty bad off, ain't I, Pony?"

"You'll be okay," Ponyboy replied, but I think we both missed the conviction in his voice. I'd seen the newspapers, too, Ponyboy…I knew that they put an "if" in the live equation, and I knew that soon that would be a "wouldn't." "You gotta be," Pony continued, with a bit less fake cheer and with a bit more sincerity. "We couldn't get along without you."

I felt myself beginning to shake. _Oh, Pony, I know you're trying to help but please don't make me feel worse than I already do…_

"I won't be able to walk again," I found myself saying. I was pretty fuzzy-headed, so this just kind of came out. "Not even on crutches. Busted my back."

"You'll be okay," Ponyboy repeated, sounding like a stubborn child. He sounded near tears, and that scared me. Ponyboy knew as well as I did. I wasn't going to be okay. I wasn't going to be anything of the sort. At that thought, words started spilling out of me again.

"You want to know something, Ponyboy? I'm scared stiff. I used to talk about killing myself, but I don't want to die now. It ain't long enough. Sixteen years ain't long enough. I wouldn't mind it so much if there wasn't so much stuff I ain't done yet and so many things I ain't seen. It's not fair." I rambled a bit after that, not quite sure what I was saying. Ponyboy got a little juiced up, determined to convince me of something we both knew wasn't true. I couldn't remember that moment quite so well.

But what the nurse said cleared my head in an instant. "Johnny, your mother's here to see you."

My eyes finally opened, and I felt how wide they were. My mom had actually come to see me? She usually just ignored me and brushed me off like I was nothing, so now she had actually taken the time of day to acknowledge my existence. I felt my heart lighten a little bit. My mom actually cared about me.

Or maybe she just wanted to yell at me again.

That was all she did when she bothered to notice me.

I felt my eyes darken. "I don't want to see her."

The nurse looked surprise. "She's your mother," she told me, as if that had any significance at all. It meant as much to me as it would have my mother if she had been told "He's your son." I'd stopped caring about my parents now, like Dally had his. It only mattered to me that I had the boys.

"I said I don't want to see her." I was angry now, angry that my mom had waited till I stopped caring about her to care about me, or that she was actually willing to lash at me when I had already taken the lashing of my life. "She's probably come to tell me about all the trouble I'm causing her and how glad her and the old man'll be when I'm dead. Well, tell her to leave me alone. For once just leave me alone!" I tried to sit up, but suddenly stars exploded across my eyes.

The world shot away from me, and I passed out.

* * *

><p>Damn it. They'd let my mom in anyway. When I came to, she was just standing there, just staring at me.<p>

I just lied there staring back before I lost my patience and rasped, "What do you want?" I remembered back at the fountain, thinking about how I'd been waiting for my parents to come around and care about me. Well, this was one bus that had had to wait too long, and it had driven away long ago.

My mom swallowed thickly, hanging her head, and her straight black hair covered her face. I noticed kind of curiously that her hands were shaking. I guessed bitterly that we had the same nervous habit. After a moment, though, I felt my eyes widen. It was strange, suddenly having something in common with my mother other than my black hair, black eyes, and dark skin. I wondered if we had anything else in common. Maybe she was just scared to love like I was scared to be alone. That could be way she always avoided me…

_Don't think like that, Johnny. She doesn't deserve your love. Not now._

Or maybe she was just like Dally. She had just lost the ability to love and hated the world for it.

_But even Dally loves you, Johnny._

Everything was silent and still a little bit longer. Then, next thing I knew, a pad of paper and a pencil had been thrown at me. They hit my legs, but of course I didn't feel it. For a moment, I hated my mother with all my heart, for throwing things at me when I was so injured. But then I realized the significance of what she had thrown.

I had always liked to write, despite my bad grammar and spelling. I didn't even think Pony knew that.

Slowly, my eyes traveled from the paper to my mom. I saw her eyes for a second, just a second. They were hard as ever, but they were downcast. They were watery. Tear-filled. And suddenly I remembered that all my mom had ever done to me was ignore me and yell at me. She had never physically hurt me.

Without another word, my mom turned and left the room.

I didn't call out after her.

* * *

><p>I must have fallen asleep again. When I woke up, Dally was sitting next to me, casually sucking on a cigarette.<p>

"Cancer sticks ain't allowed in hospitals, Dal."

He looked down at me, surprised to see me awake. Then, he grinned like the devil, eyeing the cigarette with pride. "They are when you talk everyone who notices into it with a switch," he replied. "'Sides, I'm keeping the door closed and your window open. Won't hurt no one but me and you, and I don't give a damn and you smoke too, so, no harm, no foul."

Suddenly, I noticed that his arm was in a sling. How had he gotten hurt? "What happened to your arm?"

Dally glared at me, taking another long drag from his cigarette. "You, you little punk." I wondered how I could've been the one to get him hurt, but I felt guilty as anything else for it. Maybe he'd gotten jumped because I'd killed Bob, and one of them had broken his arm. Dally had probably broken their head for it…

I could tell Dally was itching to give me a good whack. I wondered why he didn't.

I swallowed thickly. I remembered thinking how I'd die if Dally hated me, I just knew I would…well, I was dying anyway. I couldn't die with Dally hating me. The words just came out again, like they'd been doing ever since I'd been put in this hospital. "I'm so sorry, Dal, I didn't want to hit you. It's just, I couldn't let Pony go in there alone. I was just as responsible for that fire as he was, and I care about Pony a lot, you dig? I wanted to look after him." I licked my parched lips, and was surprised to hear myself say, "Please don't hate me. I'm sorry, please don't hate me."

Dallas looked genuinely shocked. His cigarette tumbled from his loose grasp and onto my blanket. He cussed, quickly swiping it up and grinding it out under his heel. Then, he looked up at me. "I don't hate you, Johnnycake," he said slowly, still looking confused. "I can be angry as hell with you, and I hate to break it to you, kid, but I _am_ angry as hell with you…but I could never hate you."

My eyes widened as I stared at him. I was begging my head not to get blurry. I didn't want to miss a thing Dally said. He didn't hate me…

I hadn't seen a look so soft on Dally's face since he had been trying to cheer me up after I got jumped. It was gone in a second, though, almost like a trick of the light. He leaned back in his chair, giving me a steady but easy glare. "Besides, I wouldn't have gotten this-" He gestured with his injured arm. "-if I hated you."

I was confused. What did he mean?

Dally just kind of looked at me for a minute, then said, "Lord, you really don't know how I got this, do you?" I shook my head at him, and he sighed. "After Pony jumped out of that window, I jumped in. Who do you think dragged you out of there?"

My breath caught in my chest. Tim Shepard was Dally's best friend, and Dally still went and slashed his tires just for kicks. Dally wasn't the kind of person to put his life on the line for someone like that.

Dallas seemed uncomfortable with the subject, so he changed it. "Now how in the hell did you wind up with this piece of crap?" he asked, suddenly holding up a copy of _Gone With the Wind._ So Two-Bit had gotten it for me after all. "When you were sleeping, I got bored and tried reading it, but good lord!" He shook his head, swaying his white-blonde curls. "What sadist would give you this?"

"Two-Bit," I replied without thinking. Dally's eyes widened.

The foul ways Dally described Two-Bit failed to quite reach me. When Ponyboy had almost been beaten, Dally had beaten his record of Nasty Things Said to Socs, and now I was pretty certain he was beating his record of Unkind Things to Call Two-Bit. With that thought on my mind, I drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p>I woke up on and off, but rarely bothered to stay awake for a few minutes. Once, I caught a glimpse of Steve just relaxing in a chair by my bed. It felt like I had only blinked, but Soda, Two-Bit, and Darry had suddenly joined Steve in the room, and they were talking. Steve was saying something about having to leave soon to go to work. I blinked again, and it was only Soda, who grinned at me and said, "Hey, Johnnycake." But I'd blinked again, and then I'd been alone. I was just so tired.<p>

The longest time I'd stayed up yet was when I had decided to put the pad of paper my mom gave me to use. As soon as I folded up the piece of paper into _Gone With the Wind_ and asked the nurse to give it to Pony, I was out again.

"Johnnycake?" Dally's voice suddenly called. "Johnny?"

Now awake, I opened my eyes. Dally was standing over me, looking kind of beat up and really desperate. I'd never seen Dally look so desperate. "Hey," I croaked.

The world was swimming so much worse than it ever had before, but I struggled to stay concentrated on Dally's face. I was going to die soon, probably in a matter of minutes, but I wasn't scared for me. I was scared for Dally, how he would react. I'd strung together the events since we'd gone to Dairy Queen, and I knew that Dally actually cared about me more than I think anyone had ever realized. I didn't want Dally to do something crazy.

I was going to die, without a doubt. I didn't want Dally to get himself killed, too. I thought kind of bitterly, _I don't want that to happen to you. Like it happened to me…_

"We won," Dally gasped, and I knew he was talking about the rumble. "We beat the Socs. We stomped them - chased them out of our territory." He didn't sound proud of it at all. He sounded rushed, like he didn't really have time to be proud of it. There was a strange sort of hope on his face.

I couldn't honestly say that I was proud of it either. I'd never really minded fighting in a rumble before, but killing Bob had given me a whole new way of thinking when it came to violence. You never really understood how bad it was when you were the one being hurt. It became a hell of a lot deeper when you were the one hurting others.

Funny. Most people thought it was the other way around…

"Useless…fighting's no good…," I choked out, wanting Dally to understand this. He always hurt others but had never been hurt, and he loved violence. Maybe, like everything else seemed to be when it came to the two of us, it was switched for him. Maybe he needed to be hurt for him to understand.

Disappointment flooded Dally's eyes, and I suddenly realized he was trying his hardest to make me happy. One last time, make me happy…

Before I had the time to feel guilty, he was trying again. "They're still writing editorials about you in the paper. For being a hero and all. Yeah, they're calling you a hero now and heroizing all the greasers." Two-Bit had already tried that trick, but I would still smile. If it meant giving Dally a bit of peace, if it meant making _Dally_ happy, then I would smile.

Then, Dally added, "We're all proud of you, buddy."

And I smiled. It didn't need to be forced. All I'd ever really wanted was for Dally to be proud of me…

Suddenly, I saw the boy standing uncomfortably in the doorway, just staring. Golly, did Ponyboy look beat up. It hurt me inside, knowing that he'd gotten hurt so badly, and knowing he was about to get hurt ten times more. I knew what getting hurt did to you. It ruined you.

Ponyboy couldn't get ruined. He had been orphaned, had been forced to watch as his brothers gave up everything for him, had had to run away from the law and everything he had ever known…he had gotten through so much. So much, and he hadn't forgotten how to cry, like Two-Bit and Dally. He hadn't forgotten how to let the smile reach his eyes, like Steve and Darry. He hadn't forgotten about his dreams in life, like Soda.

He hadn't been broken, like me.

For God's sake, Ponyboy couldn't forget. He couldn't break.

"Ponyboy," I gasped quietly, desperate to say this one thing. My last wish, I guess you could call it. The way it went in movies and books, no one could really ever refuse a last wish.

Ponyboy walked up to me, leaning down so he could hear me. I got a good look at him. With his hair all bleached like that, he kind of looked like Dally, and I hoped he'd never grow to resemble him more. He looked so sad and beaten, but not broken. He was close to it, but he could recover, and I prayed he would.

I swallowed thickly, then whispered, "Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold…"


	5. Almost Golden

**A/N: Okay…it's now a five-shot. I decided to do the corniest ending I think I ever could've done…I hope you like. And remember, criticism and reviews are always welcome!**

**Ponyboy P.O.V.**

I had just finished writing the essay for my English class. Boy, if this wouldn't pass me with a C then I didn't know what would. For Pete's sake, I was up all night and all the next day writing, and I think I barely set the pencil down for more than a second. I had only been planning on cracking the dam, writing about how I'd almost been jumped by those Socs. But one thing let to the other, and the dam was shattered. It all just flowed out of me. I couldn't stop it.

I guess that once I wrote down Johnny's name when he, Two-Bit, Steve, and Dally had come back after throwing rocks at the Socs' mustang, I had to tell his story as much as I had to tell mine. I had to tell Soda's, I had to tell Darry's, I had to tell Two-Bit's and Steve's, I had to tell Dally's, and Cherry's and Bob's and Randy's…I had to tell our story.

Now, I stared down at my work, rather proud of it. I mean, golly, I'd written what I considered to be practically a book in two days.

Suddenly, I was slapped on the back of the head. Soda was grinning at me. "Good. You're finally finished with that dang thing. Now, I'm heading off to work and Darry's already at his own job, but you better get some shut-eye."

"Bye, Sodapop," I said, and he was gone. I yawned, for the first time realizing just how tired I really was. Johnny's copy of _Gone With the Wind_ was still on my bed…

I still couldn't say that I wanted to touch it.

I did, though. If only for Johnny, I picked it up and curled up in my bed with it. I didn't want to read the part about the southern gentlemen, so I skipped right on to the end. I was so tired that I was only willing to read the last page. As I pulled the blankets up to my chest and got comfortable, I found myself thinking about Johnny. I thought about him a lot ever since I'd started the essay, and sometimes it got to the point where I had to set down the pencil, close my eyes, and just breathe. I guessed that because I'd been forcing myself to keep him out of my mind, all the overdue thoughts were flooding me.

I kept thinking back to the fire. It was kind of interesting, what it did to the way you looked without even having to touch you. Johnny's black hair had been shining like a beacon, I remembered. His dark skin had been glowing, almost golden. Not quite, but almost. And his eyes…

He had been so alive. I'd never seen him look like that before, especially in a situation as deathly as that. I remembered his words back at the hospital, how he didn't want to die yet because he hadn't gotten the chance to live. I smiled mirthlessly, flipping through the paperback book. _No, Johnny, you got the chance to live. It was only a few minutes in all your sixteen-and-a-half years, but you got the chance. I think that's why you came to terms with it in the end, isn't it? You were born to be a hero, but society called you a villain. I think that's why you were at your worst when you played the villain by killing Bob…but you were at your best when you played the hero._

I sighed. _At least you got to die the hero._

Then, I found myself staring down at the last page…

But it wasn't the last page that I read.

One the inside of the book cover, something was scribbled in Johnny's handwriting.

_Nature's first green is gold,_

_Her hardest hue to hold._

_Her early leaf's a flower;_

_But only so an hour?_

_Will leaf subside to leaf?_

_Will Eden sink to grief?_

_Prove them wrong, Ponyboy:_

_Something gold can stay._


End file.
